


Scientific Proofs

by entanglednow



Category: Primeval
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-11-19
Updated: 2008-11-19
Packaged: 2017-11-07 06:42:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 953
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/428074
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/entanglednow/pseuds/entanglednow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Connor is on a mission</p>
            </blockquote>





	Scientific Proofs

Connor had been sat hunched over on the sofa for a while now, quietly typing on his laptop, occasionally sliding books out of his bag, opening them, and copying bits down.

Abby couldn't resist any longer, she hung over the back, arms rested on Connor's warm, narrow shoulders.

"What are you doing? Was there homework that Cutter didn't tell me about?"

Connor shook his head. "No, I've been working on something of my own."

"Oh yeah?" She peered over the cushions, until she could see the glow of his screen.

Connor stopped typing, and twisted his head round until he could see her.

"I read a book on team dynamics. How the interpersonal relationships in a team contribute to its effectiveness as a team."

Abby skirted round the sofa, until she could slide into the cushions next to him with a 'thump.'

"And what have you found out."

"I'm still doing research," he admitted. "I've been following Cutter and Stephen and...ok once Lester but that was mostly by accident, I've been trying not to be seen, but that's been pretty hard with the equipment and everything."

Abby shook her head slightly in bewilderment.

"Your equipment?"

"Yeah, for the notes and things, raw data." He gestured to where his laptop clearly showed 'data' though Abby couldn't have told anyone much more about it than that.

"I thought you'd use a notepad, or something?"

"I can't write freehand very fast," Connor admitted.

"So you stalked them with your laptop? Connor I hate to say this, but you're not exactly the prince of stealth they probably saw you."

"No, I was very careful about where I took notes, and what I took notes of," he said slowly.

"So you have too many notes that go '11:47 coffee and muffins delivered to office, suspicious lack of napkins noted and filed.'"

"Hey, I'll have you know I was copying from serious scientific studies. I wasn't just doing it on a whim. Things have been strained, so I've been taking it seriously."

Abby felt briefly guilty for assuming everything Connor did was haphazard and started on a whim.

"You're right, of course, sorry."

Connor tipped the laptop open a little further, so she could see the screen.

"I made a graph."

"Of course you did," Abby said carefully.

"It took me ages," Connor said, and he sounded more than a little hurt.

"Go on, let me see then." She waved a hand, let Connor slide the laptop over her knees. He did it carefully, the backs of his fingers sliding on her bare legs, while he cleared his throat and tried not to let it tip off onto the floor. "It's not really finished, I mean it's just raw data at the moment, a lot of it needs to be plotted and measured."

Abby shoved his shoulder with her own.

"Come on then, show me how it works."

"I've tried to plot physical proximity against the amount of time we spend together, while also taking into account length of eye contact, initiation and duration of physical contact, speech patterns."

Abby rolled her eyes and prepared herself to become embroiled in the science of it all.

"And that tells you...what exactly?"

"I don't have the faintest idea," Connor admitted. "I was going to ask the maths department."

"Don't you think this is all a bit much, I mean -" Abby waved a hand, that managed to take in the laptop and the graphs and the enthusiasm. Which she thought, she hoped, would make her point.

Connor shrugged.

"I tend to get a bit-"

"Obsessed?"

"I was going to say focused...but thanks for making me feel like a stalker."

"Well it's not always a bad thing to get-" She waved a hand to illustrate a state of Zen concentration but didn't speak, for fear of using the word 'obsessed again.

Connor was quiet for a moment.

"So," Abby said carefully. "What's all this going to tell you, when it's finished?"

Connor laid a hand over his laptop and books, almost protectively, and Abby thought maybe she knew him well enough to know that he was still waiting for more, but that he desperately wanted to be _excited_ about this. She couldn't help but feel ever so slightly guilty that he didn't get excited quite so easily any more. She thought maybe they were too quick to jump on his ideas when they went wrong, and too slow to be grateful when they went right.

"I'm hoping- no, I think it's going to show us how to be a better team."

"Do you think we need to be a better team?" It was a stupid question really, one she knew the answer to.

Connor just looked at her, in a way that was answer enough, he knew the same.

"Yeah, I know, stupid question. So, did you do one for us?" Abby asked, half teasing and half genuinely curious.

Connor looked briefly flustered, and she let him slide the laptop back and minimize some of his screens.

She thought, maybe, the answer was yes.

"I think we get along ok already."

"Yeah?" Abby raised an eyebrow.

"Yeah? I mean yeah, sure we do, don't we?" The uncertainty at the end of his question stung a little.

Abby couldn't help slithering an arm round his waist and squeezing.

"Yes, absolutely, we do!" She thought that was all Connor wanted, was someone to have a little faith in him, and he'd probably earned that at least. She laughed and leant in close enough to kiss him on the cheek. Which promptly made him go red, and pay sudden, intense, attention to his laptop keys.

She left her arm where it was.

 

 


End file.
